


Babies

by wheel_pen



Series: Malachite [9]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3265679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malachite contemplates his infant daughter, but still doesn’t understand her mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babies

            Malachite grinned down at the baby lying on the couch. She grinned back up at him, or at least parted her chubby lips and drooled a little. He took that as a sign of happiness. “What a good baby,” he assured her, holding his hand up for her little feet to kick at. Ahnah seemed to think she was strong, for a baby anyway, but Malachite was hardly surprised by _that_ ; people had paid a lot of money for him to give them a baby like this, and there had to be a good reason for it.

            But this baby? Was his. No doubt about it. She had Ahnah’s brown eyes, slightly almond-shaped, but _his_ dark curly hair, and she was rarely afflicted with the health complaints most infants experienced. And when she was mad, she started flailing her little arms and legs with such passion she left bruises on her mother—small bruises, certainly, but bruises nonetheless—and howled with all the pent-up fury and frustration her little lungs could express. Both Luks and Ahnah failed to see what was so incredibly impressive about this, especially at three in the morning, but Malachite knew what the little girl was trying to convey. It’s hard to live with people telling you what to do all the time, especially if you don’t really understand what they’re saying in the first place.

            “You’re a great kicker,” Malachite encouraged, tracing the shell of her tiny ear with a finger that seemed huge and blunt in comparison. He didn’t have much experience with babies, really, and he was still amazed that she looked so _complete_ , so much like a real person—only smaller.

            He heard distinctive footsteps in the hallway and sighed. It was only a matter of time before—The door to the study opened, then an exasperated voice said, “There you are!” Ahnah stomped forcefully over to the couch, looking down on the two occupants with disapproval. “I have been looking _everywhere_ for the baby!” she added tightly.

            “Did you think she ran away?” Malachite asked her, barely glancing over her tense figure. Some women, he’d heard, became joyful and glowing during pregnancy. Ahnah became even more tightly wound than usual. His luck.

            The teenage girl let a breath out in a sharp puff and looked around for something else to disapprove of. “Don’t lay her on the couch like that,” she chided Malachite. “She’ll fall off.”

            He gave her a look of pure disbelief. “She will _not_ ,” he countered confidently. “She’s fine.”

            “She’ll get cold without a blanket.”

            “She seems fine to me.”

            “It’s time for her nap.”

            “She’s not tired.”

            “D----t, Malachite!” Ahnah was practically seething acid all over the floor now, but then again it took very little to bring her to that state these days.

            Koko started to cry, easily sensing the tension in the room, and Malachite scooped her up and put her over his shoulder, rubbing her back sympathetically. “You’re upsetting her,” he pointed out, although Ahnah was nearly in tears herself. He thought he was doing a remarkable job of staying calm himself. “Go take a nap. Then we’ll go into town and do some shopping.”

            Annah’s delicate features twisted up. “Go into town,” she repeated flatly. “Right. Like I’m going into town _now_ , when every other person I meet will _also_ be pregnant by you.”

            He managed to roll his green eyes derisively and kiss the baby’s cheek comfortingly at the same time. “You’re exaggerating again,” he pointed out.

            Ahnah dropped exhaustedly into a chair beside the couch. “I can’t _ever_ show my face in town again,” she continued self-pityingly, burying her face in her hands. “My _aunt_ alone...”

            “F—k your aunt,” Malachite advised, keeping his tone as light as possible. Koko was just starting to calm down.

            “You probably did!” she shot back tartly, and he had to smirk a little at that.

            “I’d never be _that_ desperate,” he assured her, cradling the baby in his arms. She seemed happier now and clutched at the finger he dangled above her. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about, anyway,” Malachite continued, although he knew it would lead to no good. “Dr. Shepard said it was a ‘biological imperative.’” This time Ahnah was the one rolling her eyes. “And Luks said it was okay.”

            She knew she’d lost the argument, such as it was, when their master’s name was invoked. Luks’s word was the be-all and end-all of their existence, at least in Malachite’s mind. “Well, I’m still not going into town,” she repeated, grasping at whatever little bit of control she had. Malachite wouldn’t _force_ her into a vehicle while she was pregnant.

            “Fine,” he shrugged. “But you can’t complain about what I buy, then.” Ahnah narrowed her eyes at him, contemplating what horrible maternity clothes or baby blankets he might come back with just to spite her. “Koko can help me pick stuff out, can’t you?”

            Ahnah was on her feet in a moment. “Absolutely not!” she told him, voice a shade away from panicky. “You are _not_ taking the baby into town!”

            “Why not?” he asked innocently. Koko looked so tiny in his arms, watching her arguing parents warily.

            The reasons his plan was a bad idea seemed too numerous to list in Ahnah’s opinion. “You wouldn’t know the _first thing_ to do with her if she started crying!” she pointed out angrily. “You don’t even know how to change her diapers!”

            “Well, change her before we leave,” Malachite suggested reasonably.

            Rendered inarticulate with frustration, Ahnah made a noise that was part squeal, part growl. Malachite raised his eyebrows at her. “You are _not_ taking the baby to town!” she repeated forcefully. “And that’s _final_.” And she reached down and plucked Koko from Malachite’s arms, holding her protectively against her chest as the baby expressed her surprise by howling.

            “Hey!” Malachite stood quickly, looming over Ahnah. “And you say _I’m_ not careful with her! You could’ve—ripped her arm off or something!”

            “You’re not taking her to town,” the girl assured him, once more, then lifted her chin defiantly and stomped out of the room—with the baby.

 **

            Malachite thought he ought to be angrier about the incident. Well, he _was_ angry, it was stupid to play tug-of-war with a _baby_ , but he thought he _ought_ to feel like ripping Ahnah’s head off, even if he restrained himself. Instead he was just generally p----d at her, glad that Koko hadn’t seemed injured, and glad to be getting out of the house. _Strange_.

            He drove the truck into town and parked it in front of Fordman’s. He could have walked, easily, but anything he bought would be easier to transport home in a vehicle—he felt d—n silly toting bags of baby clothes down the road, even if he _was_ going pretty fast.

            A couple people passing by on the street glanced at him as he crossed the sidewalk, but he was used to that and ignored them. No one would bother him, whether because they feared him personally or Luks’s wrath when _he_ found out, so Malachite didn’t see any reason to worry about it. He pushed the door to the general store open, setting off the tinkling bell above it, and ambled over to the baby and maternity section. He didn’t really need clothes for the new baby that would be along in a few months, he or she could just get used to their older sister’s hand-me-downs, but Koko was growing so fast, Ahnah complained she’d have to wrap her in towels and blankets for lack of other clothing. And Malachite’s innocent suggestion that Ahnah learn to sew baby clothes for her had _not_ met with approval. He’d thought maybe it would be a nice hobby for her, but whatever.

            Hmmm. He skipped the rack of frilly dresses and went for the stacks of bunny suits instead, impossibly tiny overalls and jumpers. Ahnah would have wanted the silly girly clothes, but then Ahnah had chosen not to come along, hadn’t she?


End file.
